I'm Fifteen. And I'm A Loser.
by Ellie Anne
Summary: Hermione gives a first-person description of a day or so in her life...in an odd, humerous, and somewhat depressing format. And...what about RON? R/H


I'm Fifteen

I'm Fifteen. And I'm A Loser.

A/N: Yes, I am Elani Wrapdon. (if you're wondering why I'm on your favorites list, or why you got an AuthorAlert for me.) Yes, I know a lot of my fics are missing. I purposely deleted them. Why? Hmm, well, I've sort of started over. Completely. I wanted a new start in fan fiction. If you loved one of my old stories so completely that you desperately need it (although I doubt this case will happen), then e-mail me at [GirlyGurl17@aol.com][1] and describe the story to me, and I'll send it to you. Why did I keep Cold of the Morning out of all my stories? It was my favorite story, and I also happen to be writing a sequel series to it. ^_^ So look out for that coming soon. Well, here's the story. My first ever R/H story, from the perspective of Hermione. Eeeep! Tell me what you think.

I'm fifteen. And I am a loser. I know what you're thinking…how could I possibly say such a horrible thing about myself? Well, you don't know my perspective. Love's a game. And I'm the loser.

I'm fifteen. And I've never been kissed. Just like that terrible Muggle movie that my parents rented for me…minus the whole nerd thing. No, wait, I take that back. I'm considered a book nerd. Great.

I'm fifteen. And I'm not in love. I do not have a crush. Well, maybe except for _him_. No, I can't think of him. I'm sure I blush every time I do, and it sort of doesn't help that he sits next to me in every class, and that he's one of my best friends. UGH!

I'm fifteen. And I just hissed at Lavender Brown to take a note on what Professor McGonagall was saying, because didn't she want to get a good grade on the test coming up? Lavender just glared at me. She's mad at me.

I'm fifteen. And Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil are mad at me because I won't let them give me a makeover. Every time they see me, it's "ooooh, Lavender, don't you think Hermione would look darling in this pink halter???" or "ooooh, Parvati, don't you think Hermione's hair would look great with this charm???" I think I'd rather choke to death than to be made over by those two. I'd end up looking like…let's not go there.

I'm fifteen. And I'm about to go to Potions class, where I will be tortured by Snape and Draco Malfoy, the only two people who hate me here at Hogwarts. No, I take that back…there's got to be more people that hate me. Occasionally Ron hates me…but I won't think about _him_. Sigh.

I'm fifteen. And now I'm in the common room, yelling at Ron and Harry to do their homework. Don't they want to get good grades, I ask them? They laugh it off, giving me a weird look. At least, I know Ron's giving me a weird look. _He_'s giving me a weird look. Why do I know? Because I can't seem to keep my eyes off of him. So I storm up to my room instead.

I'm fifteen. And I'm being cornered in my room by Lavender and Parvati. What do they want? Oh, peachy. It's another one of their lets-scare-Hermione-into-letting-us-give-her-a-makeover ideas. They're so dense sometimes. They think they can scare me. What can they do? Duff me up? Put a spider in my hair? Tell Ron I'm mad about him? Noooo, I won't think about that. No one knows…no one knows. Nooneknowsnooneknowsnooneknows.

I'm fifteen. And I'm back down in the common room now that Lavender and Parvati have given up. Once and for all I hope. Oh no, there _he_ is. Ohhhh, someone hide me. Before I turn five shades of red in front of him. Eeep.

I'm fifteen. And I'm a big girl…I can handle that he's coming over here. I can handle this. I can handle this. I can…no I can't!!! I can still make a mad dash to the library or something. Away from him!!

I'm fifteen. And my plan of running away from Ron didn't work. He grabbed my arm and said he needed to talk to me. Why me? Why does he want to talk to me? Maybe about homework, and maybe it's about Quidditch, as Harry's out practicing and he has no one to talk sports with. Maybe…no, I won't think things like that.

I'm fifteen. And Ron just asked me to the All Hallow's Eve ball. He's kidding, right? I'm sure I'm so red that he must think I'm going to explode. Maybe he knows what's going on in my head, and he's just trying to humor me. Or maybe he really means it…

I'm fifteen. And I just said yes to Ron. I just said YES, that I'd go to the ball with him! Oh, gads, what did I get myself into? Now he's the same color red as me, maybe he didn't believe I'd actually say yes, or maybe it really was a joke. Would _he_ do that?

I'm fifteen. And Ron just _kissed _me! ME! Oh, my head is spinning, and I think I'm going to…

I'm fifteen. And I just woke up inside the infirmary. Supposedly I passed out. Ron and Harry are here, as well as George and Fred. The twins have the most horribly mischievous look on their faces, and they have something in their hands. It doesn't make me feel better that my stomach is filling up with dread. Oh oh oh!

I'm fifteen. And my life is as good as over. George and Fred took a picture of Ron and I kissing, and they're most please with themselves. No, _my life isn't over…their lives are over! Especially if they show anyone! What'll Harry think? Oh ho, he looks happy. No, I take that back. Our dear friend Harry looks like he's going to have an asthmatic attack he's laughing so hard. Great._

I'm fifteen. And did I mention I was a loser?

A/N: Yes, I know. It was a bit out of character. But what did you think? The way I wrote it was a bit weird…but I think it worked. Well, please tell me what you think. Maybe I'll do more R/H stories after this if enough people like it. Thanks everyone! PS, an very very BIG thanks to KrissyKat for beta-reading this for me. Sorry, ~*Tinkerbell*~, but you weren't on!!! ^_^ You get the next one, the one I was telling you about before. –Eliza

   [1]: mailto:GirlyGurl17@aol.com



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